Trials of the Heart: Angel's Call
by ShiningwingX
Summary: Rewritten and altered version of my old story, Trials of the Heart: Divinus Minae. First book of at least four. Rated T for now. "It all began with that mysterious dream. It is because of that that I now find myself standing here, speaking with these people who call themselves 'Seraphim'. My home left behind, my future a blank canvas... If I go with them, will I find what I seek?"
1. Prologue: Through the Eyes of the Past

_ShiningwingX: Greetings everyone! It's been a while since I've released anything of merit, but I'm pleased to say that I'm definitely back in the swing of things. I've felt much better since my recent move and have been able to focus more on my writing. I began writing this prologue less than a month ago, and from that timestamp, those of you who have been with me from the beginning can agree that this is a much better pace than the 2-3 months per chapter the last story started having. :)_

_For those of you who are new, I'll explain. I originally began writing the story under the title _Trials of the Heart: Divinus Minae_. This version of the story was meant to be a sequel to Ocarina of Time. It was more successful than I could have hoped, but for a very long time I was unable to work on it for various reasons. During this time, my aspirations for the story grew to something beyond mere fanfiction and therefore, I decided to rewrite it. _

_Now armed with a couple more years of writing experience, and a more solid plotline in mind, I've begun that process. This new version, _Trials of the Heart: Angel's Call_ is going to deviate away from the sequel-story crutch I was using before. Eventually, I plan to convert this story into an original work and publish it, but I plan to finish it in fanfiction format first, so you don't need to worry about me suddenly pulling the brake on it here._

_That said, I hope the old fans enjoy this new rendition of the story, and that new readers will find a lot to enjoy as well. So without further ado, let's get started._

_Theme music:_

_**Chrono Trigger: At the End of All Things – Abadoss (OC Remix)**_

_**Final Fantasy XIII: Promised Eternity – Masashi Hamauzu (Final Fantasy XIII Soundtrack)**_

_**Tales of Vesperia: Serenity – (Tales of Vesperia Soundtrack)**_

_**Final Fantasy IX: Melodies of Life Rearranged – McVaffe (OC Remix)**_

* * *

**Trials of the Heart: Angel's Call**

* * *

**Prologue – Through the Eyes of the Past**

* * *

_Alvaï…_

A voice… A silent whisper that rouses my unconscious mind, causing my eyes to open.

A vast, white expanse that surrounds me – an achromatic veil that comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. The brightness envelops everything in its pristine embrace, covering it like a thick blanket as bright as Sàlenòtenrie above. My vision strains against the glare as I attempt to keep myself from shutting out the brightness that envelops my vision. My gaze travels this way and that, curiosity and trepidation filling my being, as I try in vain to locate any other presence within the brightness that surrounds me as my mind steadily becomes more aware.

_Talfë cyrim…?_

The voice again… my voice. I wish I could answer it. Where indeed? It is as if a thick haze fills my mind, obscuring the aspects of memory and recognition from my thoughts. This is not right… this is not where I am supposed to be. I barely remember anything at all, but that much is certain… for why would anyone wish to be in a place like this… a place filled with naught but emptiness.

And yet… a strange sense of emotion claws at my spirit – emotions that I have no reason to feel – attempting to gain the attention of my addled mind. It is as if they are being transferred to me from elsewhere, though I cannot fathom from where. I focus on these… attempting to discern what they are and what they mean… and perhaps, through this, where they come from.

I feel… contentment? Relief? Joy?

It is as if my mind and spirit are as water in a pool – shifting form to that of whatever container is transmitting these feelings to me – yet lapping at the edges, trying to regain their true form. Why do I feel this way? From where do these emotions come, and why am I so receptive to it? These questions flood my mind like a torrent fallen from the heavens above as I try in vain to focus my thoughts… to remember what brought me here. This answer does not come… but the slow, steady awakening of my unconscious mind soon reveals something else.

I have no form… no shape or body. I am as nothing.

No… that is not right. If I were nothing, I would not be here. I would have no thoughts, no presence, no name.

Name…? What is my name? Do I have one?

Is it true then, that I am indeed nothing? That I am no different from the pallid emptiness surrounding me, but for a few echoing thoughts or emotions that may not even be my own? No… that cannot be true. I feel it… I know it… I am more than nothing. But what am I? Who am I?

_Vèid… Sità…?_

As if in response to my desire for clarity, the ivory pall slowly begins to recede, giving way to new hues and shapes that it had once concealed beneath its colorless embrace. A vivid curtain of lapis lazuli is the first to break through the blinding prison. Within this more vibrant but equally vast expanse, a number of streaming silver lights dart about, their color similar to that which blanketed my vision before, yet these are far less intense. The lights continue to dance through the air, veiled by the slowly fading curtain of white. Some swirl about in elegant patterns in the distance, others passing near enough that I might have reached out and touched them.

_Ulnë hirós… elni sità-_

My thoughts are interrupted as the brightness continues to fade, revealing more of my surroundings. More of the azure expanse is unveiled, and with it, more of the whirling streams. However… there is something else here as well. The vague silhouette of a figure stands before me – an elegant image hidden just beyond the fading veil of achromatic light. The figure is unlike that of the thin, swift-moving rays which continue to dance around us… and much different than my own formless presence. This figure is more solid. More… whole.

Two long, slender limbs extend from the shoulders of an equally delicate looking body. The vaguely egg-like shape of a head, decidedly feminine in aspect, rests upon the figure's shoulders. The silhouetted images of the figure's hair dance in the pleasant breeze which wafts through this strange, calming place.

The last traces of the blinding glare that had enveloped me before slowly fade into nothingness, unveiling the figure at last. Soft, milky skin replaces the vague semblance thereof that pervaded my vision but an instant before. Eyes as blue as the sapphirine plane that surrounds us gaze into mine, sparkling with youth… and something more – joy. Long strands of fair hair shimmer in countless shades of gold, kissed by an imperceptible light.

It is… a woman.

_Ferà…_

Long strands of golden silk hang freely from her head, groomed to perfect straightness but for two small, majestically curved tresses which frame her delicate face. Eyes bluer than all the oceans gaze forward, occasionally disappearing only for an instant behind blinking eyelids. Delicate, rosy lips are curved into a beautiful, genuine smile, filling my heart with the warmth of her joy. Two pointed ears extend from either side of her head, and were it not for these I might have mistaken her for a goddess rather than the Hylian she is. Indeed, such a vision of beauty could only have been sculpted by the Gods themselves.

Her fair porcelain skin is covered in fine garments – elegant raiment the likes of which I have never before seen. A silken bodice of soft magenta covers her chest and abdomen and beneath this, a sleeveless v-necked shirt of purest white, secured by a button-strap, which slightly hides the skin of her long, slender neck. Two long, white gloves dress her arms and hands ending just before her shoulders. An equally white skirt conceals her legs, hiding both them and her feet from view, the only color it bears being two straight trails of magenta fabric, one larger than the other, which line bottom of the dress.

Even grander than her clothing is the fine jewelry which adorns her already exquisite form. Two golden spaulders emblazoned with complex, swirling embroideries rest upon her shoulders supporting a golden crest which stretches across her upper chest, baring the image of a great aquiline creature, holding three triangle-like objects aloft in its powerful wings. An aureate cincture encircles her waist and from it hangs a mantle of deep indigo baring many complex images including that of the three golden prisms and their avian barer while two earrings baring similarly cuneate shapes hang from her pointed ears. Upon her head, circling it like an auric halo is a beautiful circlet, its shape like that of a holy creature, and its center set with large, tear shaped ruby.

My mind and heart are filled a strange sense of familiarity. This woman – this beautiful creature that now stands before me, unmasked in the absence of the white expanse from before… is someone that I have held a connection with since time immemorial. One who has existed within my heart and mind since the moment of my birth… and perhaps, before. A person whom I know.

…A person whom I have never met before.

Hers is not the only presence that I sense here however. I sense another… a body much closer to me than hers, and yet for all my efforts I cannot see where this person is. The golden haired maiden continues to gaze forward, and it is then that I realize… she looks not at me, invisible and formless within this world as I am. Though her eyes stare directly into my own, it is not mine that meet her gaze. A gasp escapes from my insubstantial lips as I realize what this must mean.

"Thank you, Link…" She says, her voice as melodious as a siren's song.

Link… Link… Yes, that is my name. That is who I am. I am a Hylian too, like her, though I was not raised among them. The memories flood back into my mind like an undammed river spilling into a parched lake. A response forms within my mind. The response, a question, for I know not what she is thanking me for.

"Zelda…" I feel an unseen mouth move of its own accord, forming that single word without my permission. So it is true.

_Hanàsil… hanàsil…!_

A dream… this must be. How else could I be without form, and yet exist within the body of another? A body, which I've no control over? I continue to focus on this fact, trying in vain to gain some semblance of control over this vision – A motion of the arm… a step forward… a twitch of the fingers… anything to reveal these strange happenings as the dream I know they must be. Lucidity however, does not come. This avatar I inhabit does not even sense my presence as he continues to gaze forward, into the eyes of the beautiful woman opposite him.

_Elphirim… Idrë ceró?_

It seems that despite my efforts I am merely a watcher, observing the events to come from within a body that is both mine, and that of another. I cease my attempts to gain control of this strange vision for I know that it is a fruitless endeavor. Rather this is a dream, or something more it will not relinquish its control to me, and I suspect any attempts to 'awaken' myself will only yield similar results. So I watch… gazing through the eyes of this young man who is both me, and not as the events continue to enact themselves before me like a perfectly scripted play.

The smiling visage of the young woman before me widens, an aura of joy surrounding her very being. My heart begins to swell in response to this; a reaction that I am certain is not borne of my own thoughts or feelings. No… they must be his. It seems that I share much more than just this young man's name. Joy… relief… contentment… and more, mingle with my own thoughts of confusion and wonder, resulting in a complex battle for dominance within my heart. The slight texture of fabric… the faint breeze in the air… things that I, as no more than a formless consciousness should not feel, caress my senses with their telling presence. It is his emotions, his senses, that I have been experiencing from the beginning.

"Because of your efforts, Ganondorf Dragmire has been sealed within the Evil Realm." The porcelain skinned woman continues, breaking me from my thoughts. "Thus, his dark influence shall soon fade, and the people of this land will once again be blessed with a time of peace."

"You flatter me, Princess." I – or rather, the I whose body I currently inhabit – reply humbly. "I did only that which I was destined for. Anyone in the same situation would have done so."

"There is no need for humility, Link…" The young princess admonishes softly. "As with all things, there is always a choice. No one – not myself, the Hyrulean people, or even the Gods – could deny you that right. 'Destiny' as we call it, is merely one outcome out of many and its power is nothing to that of free will. You chose to fight… to become our savior, and for that you deserve my thanks."

I can feel my counterpart's mind relax as the princess' gentle declaration puts his heart at ease. "It is small wonder that you were chosen as the barer of the Wisdom Force, Zelda… but if I may, it was only through your guidance that I was able to achieve such a victory. I do not wish to think of how my journey across time might have ended without your aid."

I would have imagined this young man's words might have brought an even brighter smile from her rosen lips but instead, it seems to have an opposite effect. The princess' sapphire eyes fall, the smile fading from her lips, and she turns her gaze away from both me and the young man she speaks to. A shadow falls upon the once glowing princess, as an expression of sorrow and regret replaces the joy she radiated with only moments before. With it, a weight seems to press against my shoulders like the trunk of the eldest tree… a weight which I am certain my avatar can feel as well.

"Zelda? Are you well?" The young man says, his gentle voice laced with a concern that proves my assumption correct.

The hero – for what better word to describe the one she had called a savior – steps forward, and for the first time I catch a glimpse of the body I share. The young man raises his left hand, and my empathic concern for the woman whom he called 'Zelda' is overpowered by an emotion of my own; shock. For upon the hero's hand, hovering just above a fingerless gauntlet of leather, golden metal, and crimson gemstone is the glowing image of three triangles identical to the images I'd seen on the princess' attire. Two of the glowing prisms are dim, but the third shines brightly upon my avatar's hand.

He takes another step, and then a third before taking the princess' hand within his own, his fingers closing around her palm in a strong, but gentle grip. I cast my gaze upon the hand that he holds, and once more am I met with the same image of three triangles, but for one small difference. Like that of a mirrored reflection both hand and glowing shape are opposite that of the hero's. Where for him, the bottom right segment is that which glows, on hers it is the bottom left.

I can feel the now mirthless girl tense slightly as my avatar grips her hand. She turns her eyes even further from our collective gazes in response, hiding their beauty behind the thin veils of her closed eyelids.

"Zelda… won't you tell me what troubles you?" He coaxes gently once more.

"I… all of the tragedy that has befallen Hyrule for these past seven years was my doing…" This time she responds and though her eyes remain hidden, the sorrow within her voice is obvious to us both. "I was so young… I could not foresee the disastrous consequences of trying to control the Sacred Realm. If I'd only know, I never would have allowed this to happen… and you would not have suffered so because of my mistakes."

The young princess' regretful words tug at my heart, and the hero seems to feel the same as he grips her hand tighter, trying in vain to comfort the lamenting girl.

"I was a fool to believe that by obtaining the Triforce we could defeat Ganondorf and prevent his dark ambitions from coming to fruition… Instead, I only succeeded in bringing about those same ambitions." Eyes still shut, Zelda continues her woeful tale and I catch a small glimpse of unshed tears forming behind her eyelids. "I have wronged my people… and I have wronged you as well. I took an innocent little boy from his home – the only world he knew – and placed upon him a burden that he should never have been made to bear."

_Oua yashnó… Sità jiko vidàn ienori Hyliàni…_

I can feel the movement from the hero's other arm as he drapes it around the princess' slender waist, clutching her hand more firmly. "Zelda… you mustn't blame yourself. I-"

"And why not?" She interrupts before pausing, and I can see her body twitching slightly as silent sobs force their way to the surface. "I stole your innocence from you, Link. Not once did I consider how you must have felt. I simply took your words at their own worth without even considering what you were truly thinking. I would not blame you if you despised me for all I've done."

Zelda's words pierce my own heart like daggers, and though I do not know exactly of what she speaks, I am certain my avatar does… and that that knowledge must make it even more painful for him. His body shudders – an almost imperceptible reaction that I am sure I only feel because I share it. Then his eyes close, sealing me in darkness though I can still feel the warmth of the princess' body through his… and her tears seeping into the fabric of his clothing.

My window into the strange plane does not remain sealed for long however, for a moment later he reopens his eyes. I can feel his emotions shifting, the empathetic melancholy and concern for his princess melding with something else. He removes his right arm from her waist and takes a step back, though his left remains in hers. A sense of conviction fills him, a strong desire which forces away his distress, and mine in turn. My own shapeless breast is filled with a sense of admiration that I know is my own. This man wishes so strongly to quell the forlorn girl's guilt that he would push his own feelings aside for a time in order to make this happen.

_Essa kiràn…_

"Zelda… look at me." He says, his voice poised but gentle.

The dejected girl shrinks slightly at his words, either misunderstanding his tone or not having conviction enough of her own to comply. The young man does not yield however, his determination only burning brighter in response to her reaction. He removes his hand from hers before raising it to her face. His fingers gently guide her head forward to face him, revealing once more her vision of beauty, marred by a number of dark streaks left behind by her tears. The golden haired princess slowly, reluctantly, opens her eyes, once more allowing their beautiful depths to shine forth. She gazes unblinkingly into the hero's own eyes, and once again I feel my empathetic connection with the young man take over as her sad expression pierces my heart along with his. He does not waver however, his eyes never leaving hers even for an instant.

"You mustn't blame yourself… please." He repeats, his voice soft and comforting. "I understand your guilt, for that same regret consumes my heart as well, Zelda. Had I only been stronger that day, I might have succeeded in preventing Ganondorf's dark ambitions but alas, I was too weak. I was powerless to stop him – powerless to protect Hyrule… powerless to protect you. Not a day has gone by that I have not wished that I could go back, and undo that, which has been done."

He pauses, his eyes closing once more. The darkness enveloping my vision embodies the shadow that falls over the hero's spirit. And yet, once more it lasts only an instant before both sight and solace return to me once more. My physical counterpart returns his gaze to the princess'. The remorseful girl sniffs slightly, but continues to hold his gaze. I can feel the muscles of his own face tense and relax slightly, the telling signs of a smile.

"But I know that no good will arise from allowing these feelings to consume us." He continues, truth ringing from his voice like the whistling wind. "As much as we wish it were not so, what was done has been done, and this we cannot deny. We should consider instead what we might do to atone for these sins, and put both our spirits, and the spirits of the people at rest."

The princess lowers her gaze once more, and for a moment I cannot be sure what is going through her mind after hearing the hero's words. "Atonement…?"

"Yes."

"I… understand."

The princess' words are both simple and ominous in their utterance. No reassurance or peace of mind is reflected in them, as her eyes remain turned from the heroes' own and my own presence beyond them. I am certain he can feel this too as the emotion he radiates mirrors my own. What does the princess know that neither he, nor I am privy to? Her eyes remain turned away, and she folds her arms before her, as if a sudden chill that only she can feel has suddenly come upon her.

"I'd hoped it would not come to this…. But after hearing your words, Link I know there is no other way."

Her words are little more than a meek whisper as they escape her throat, only barely audible despite the silence which surrounds us. I only feel the hero's renewed concern an instant before he acts, quickly taking her in his arms and pulling her to him. Her body is warm, and yet to anyone else she might have appeared to be freezing from the shivers that ring throughout her body and into his. He whispers gentle words of solace into her ear – small utterances spoken in a tongue I cannot understand – as he strokes her back softly, attempting to massage away her distress with both word and touch.

"I… I am frightened, Link…" She says after a moment, curling her gloved hands into the still-damp clothing that covers the hero's torso.

"Why, Zelda?" His words are soft, his question both inquiring and comforting at the same time.

"Do you know what this place is?" The golden haired beauty answers his question with another of her own and though I sense a small inkling of curiosity within the young man's emotions, he says nothing, instead waiting for her to continue. "This is the Nexus of Time... This is the realm where all periods in time – from the first moment of its birth, to the final hour before its demise – intersect. This is where these fragments connect and shift, change, and reform in accordance with Elvaloriel's Great Law."

"Then… why are we here?" The voice of the hero is as filled with confusion as his spirit. Even I am at a loss for what to think about this revelation. "And… how?"

_Lin syldrë, sità kahl im galimése nel…?_

"Is it not obvious?" Zelda asks, though not condescendingly. "Our actions over the ages have caused an imbalance in the flow of time. This imbalance must be reconciled, and we – those who have bathed within the currents of time – must be the ones to do this.

"But how are we meant to accomplish such a thing? I do not understand." The hero inquires as my own curiosity continues to grow.

"We must choose." The princess answers, her voice soft as she continues to cling to his body. "We exist in two worlds, Link… but only one can be true."

"I… see." Revelation dawns upon the hero once more. It seems that he understands the princess' cryptic words better than I.

"Should we choose to remain as we are, this history will become the permanent. The people will know that a great evil has been defeated, and they will rejoice in this fact. And we… we will remain as we are." Though the maiden's words are sweet, the tone in which they are spoken fills me with a sense of unease. "However… the sorrow and despair that pervaded the land during the evil one's reign will not be soon forgotten. Hyrule will remain in shambles, and families will be forever forced to grieve the loss of their loved ones. This scar… will never heal."

"And… what of the other option?" The hero's words reflect his anxiety, and after hearing the princess' ominous explanation it is not difficult to understand why.

"We may choose to return to a time before all of this tragedy began. This will spare Hyrule from its current fate." She continues to explain, the same anxiety accompanying her words as before. "The people will remain ignorant of what transpired here, and they will be able to live their lives peacefully. Their loved ones will be saved, and the kingdom will prosper once more. However…"

"We may forget as well…" The hero finishes for her, his grip tightening around her waist slightly. "The needs of the few or the needs of the many? Blissful ignorance or enlightenment laced with suffering? A cruel choice indeed…"

_Rahlónte Illin? Sadón…_

My mind spins with the tale unfolding before me. Just what sort of ruined world did these two poor souls exist in? What sort of trials and hardships did they face which ultimately lead them to this final grim choice. And… are these two mysterious individuals truly able to control the flow of time? Questions swirl through my mind, clawing and fighting against one another for dominance. And yet, as I watch the princess cling to the hero's body as his own arms hold her protectively against his frame, I cannot help but feel for them in their plight. Rather through my empathetic connection with the hero, or through my feelings alone, I find myself caring for these two in a way that goes beyond that of a witness to their tragic tale.

"I know what must be done…" Zelda says finally. "But even still… I'm frightened."

"I know, Zelda… I know." The young man says gently, stroking her back. "There is no way of knowing what might happen to us… but I agree that it is for the best that this tragedy had never occurred."

The princess turns her gaze upward, meeting the hero's with her beautiful cerulean eyes, an expression of shock shaping the curves of her face. "You knew?"

The vision of the princess shifts as the hero gives one single, slow nod. "I do not understand why… but I knew which choice you would make from the first word you spoke. Perhaps it is the connection we share due to the influence of the Triforce aspects, or perhaps something else, but it matters not. And… as much as it pains me to say, I agree. Whatever desires we may hold is not worth the suffering of thousands. Yet…" He pauses for a moment, and simply stares into her eyes before continuing. "I find myself hesitating… I too, hold that same foolish, selfish desire… even though I know what must be done."

"Our choice remains clear… as painful as it may be."

I feel the princess reluctantly loosening her grasp upon the hero's clothing, allowing it to fall back into place upon his body. An uncomfortable feeling of emptiness that I am certain must be shared by my avatar fills my being from the renewed lack of contact. The young royal slowly steps backward, distancing herself from him, a forlorn expression marring her visage with the taint of sorrow. She raises a single gloved hand, palm open as if in offering though her fingers tremble with the weight of an invisible burden.

"This ritual will require both of us, Link." I can tell she is holding back another stream of tears from the quiver in her angelic voice. "You must give the Ocarina to me, that I might use its power one final time. I will play the melody that will direct the currents of time into your blade. Once done, you will use this power to open the way for us… to undo all of the sorrow Ganondorf and his dark designs have wrought."

The reluctant hero's eyes turn away from the princess once more, lowering their gaze to focus on the mark glowing softly upon his left hand. It is almost as if he draws strength from it, as I feel him slowly forcing his trepidation aside. His eyes follow his covered palm as he raises it before him, concentrating – envisioning something.

A few seconds pass before a faint white light appears within his hand. It pulses and ebbs, growing and enveloping his palm within its soft radiance. The alabaster orb is there for but a moment before it bursts into a number of tiny particles, like a bubble pierced by a fine needle. In its place rests a small instrument of azure hue, formed of a strange crystalline substance. I immediately recognize it as an Ocarina... though it is much finer than the ones that I am familiar with. Its sapphire like surface is crafted into a perfectly ovate shape, and appears to glow softly with a less than natural light. The mouthpiece is trimmed with a lustrous argentine metal, etched with strange, flowing symbols that I cannot understand.

The hero's eyes rest upon the exquisite instrument for a moment before slowly placing it within the princess' outstretched palm. He does not let it go immediately, instead allowing his hand to linger where it is, obviously conflicted within his mind and heart. His eyes continue to linger upon where their hands meet, and it almost feels that the strange but beautiful instrument is the only thing that keeps her from drifting away from him.

It is only when she gently rests her other hand upon his that he finally breaks from this trance. His eyes travel to hers once more, and I can clearly see the pain that this other Link feels reflected upon her face. The two ill-fated companions continue to gaze into each other's eyes, neither uttering a word – as if to do so would spell the end for them both. And once more I feel the odd sense of conflicting emotions battling within my being as both sympathy and empathy fight for dominance within my own heart.

"When this is done, and peace returns to Hyrule… it may be time for us to say goodbye." It is the princess who breaks the silence, her voice soft as if straining to find substance through her grief. "Perhaps… it will be better that way."

"No…" Before I am even able to ruminate upon the princess' words, the voice of my avatar rings out once more. He shakes his head, distorting the golden haired maiden's image before me. "I won't, Zelda… I won't say it."

His voice is clear, despite his obvious grief. The princess' words had stricken a cord within him… but it was not dismay or anger that they triggered. She gazes into his eyes, her forlorn expression replaced by one of confusion at his words, and surprise at his tone. He stares unblinkingly back, as if attempting to convey with his eyes what words alone cannot.

"I won't say it…" He repeats, softer this time. "…because to do so would be to forsake what hope remains to despair. I will not forget… so I will not say goodbye."

"Do you mean to say… that you wish to remember?" She asks softly. "You would forsake the mercy of ignorance for the pain of remembrance?"

"Without question." The young hero replies, his words holding no hesitation whatsoever.

"But… why?"

"Memories are precious things, Zelda. They exist so that we might keep the past alive through fond reminiscence, or else learn from our mistakes." The hero explains. "Many people forget that. They would sooner have a painful memory stripped from their mind then to bear the burden and live with it. I… do not wish to be one of those people. Moreover…" He pauses for a moment, and I sense the smile which slowly spreads across his lips. "…there are many facets to every rupee. What else would I give up, along with the hardship we've faced? This journey has not been an endless road of sorrow and despair… there also exists fonder memories from it… memories that I would not sacrifice, no matter the cost."

"Such as…?" The princess asks in her soft voice, as if pleading with the hero to share with her the reservoir of strength from which he drinks.

"Many things…" The hero begins fondly. "The rays of shimmering light which pierced the black skies each time the darkness was lifted from another part of the kingdom. The faces of men, women, and children alike when they finally remembered what it is to hope. Laying beneath the cloudless skies at night, bathed within the soft light of Falmina and the stars above, dreaming of the days of peace I knew would one day come." He pauses for a moment, and I feel his heart swelling as he seems to reminisce upon a particularly fond memory. "The way I felt… when I finally saw you again after so long."

"Link…" The princess' words are little more than a whisper on her lips in response to his heartfelt declaration.

"I have no desire to lose any of this, Zelda… no matter the price." He finishes gently, a feeling of genuine contentment filling his very being.

"But… how is it then, that you can be so certain? So… confident?" The golden haired princess inquires. "Especially when you know as well as I what may happen to us…"

"Because, Zelda…" He pauses, moving his unoccupied hand to hers and gently lifting it from his left. There, the image of the three golden prisms continues to glow warmly – a light reflecting the feelings in his heart. "As the barer of the Triforce of Courage… that is my wish."

Such simple words, yet it is clear from the princess' reaction that naught else could have done more to ease her heart and mind. Her lips curl into a tiny smile – a gentle expression of gratitude that conveys her feelings more than any words of thanks could. My physical counterpart's own smile widens in response to this, and I feel the final traces of dismay and uncertainty leave him completely. The fingers of her left hand enlace themselves with his right, emitting a warmth that I'm not entirely sure is from mere bodily heat.

"Your words ring true, Link… I understand now." There is no further doubt in the maiden's words. Her voice, though soft, is clear – free of the uncertainty which consumed her only moments before. "I share the same feelings, Link… that desire never to forget, no matter what else that may bring."

"Then let us make that happen…" The hero begins gently. "Play for me, Zelda… Let us leave this place, and return home to where we belong."

"Yes… Let us finally put an end to this accursed nightmare once and for all."

Zelda gives a single nod of her head, and begins to step away as my avatar finally releases his grasp upon the beautiful crystalline ocarina. The golden haired princess lifts the precious instrument to her chest and closes her eyes, as a tranquil smile spreads across her rose lips. I watch through the eyes of the hero as she slowly raises the ocarina to these same lips, preparing to play the melody that she had spoken of… a melody that could command the currents of time itself.

The hero follow suit, moving his left hand around his body, and for the first time since finding myself within his solid form, I am made aware of the blade that rests upon his back, as his fingers close around the grip. A slight, almost musical ring echoes forth as he frees the weapon from its scabbard, and for a moment, the silvery trails streaking about overhead seem to dance in response.

It is an exquisite weapon, to be sure. The blade is long, and forged from a metal of pure white, and yet the weapon feels as light as down feathers within the young man's grip. The mirrored edge curves into a thin, sharp point at its apex, whilst the blade's base curves inward into a thinner section which bares the brand's only engraving – that recurring image of three triangles fused as one. The cross-guard's shape is that of a pair of unfurled wings, and the entirety of the hilt appears to be made of a similar material to that of the ocarina the princess now holds… as if both weapon and instrument were crafted within the same divine forge.

Sword in hand, my avatar lowers himself to one knee as he brings the sword before him, grasping the hilt with both hands and balancing the tip upon the invisible surface that he and the princess stand upon. He turns his eyes upward for a moment, gazing at the form of Zelda as she stands above him, her hair and clothes fluttering in the gentle breeze. Her eyes are closed, that same beautiful smile gracing her lips, and he knows that she holds no fear. Then, his eyes lower, turning away from her elegant form, all his focus concentrated upon his role in this ritual. Darkness fills my vision as his lids close, yet this time I feel none of the haunting pain that accompanied this before.

Then, she plays.

A lovely melody echoes forth from the ocarina, her breath and fingers summoning forth the angelic sound concealed within the instrument's crystalline frame. Three tones repeating three times before rising into a crescendo and falling once again… On it goes, growing ever more complex as she continues to play, and yet each note seems to etch itself into my mind and I know that I will never forget them. The hero too, allows the music to wash over him and for a moment, it almost feels as if mine is the only presence within his body, his own mind and spirit focusing on nothing but her music, and his sword.

_Kalinësà…_

The beautiful song finally reaches its end, and it is only then that the hero once more opens his eyes. As the notes fade into the distance, the thin streams of light answer its call, darting downward toward the hero, as his unwavering focus remains fixed upon the blade he holds. The lights swirl around his body, streaking across my line of sight like a swarm of fireflies engaged in one of their elegant dances before disappearing into the blade's achromatic surface. The weapon's beautiful edges glow with argentine light as the last of the streams penetrates its brand, infusing it with their power. The hero rises to his feet once more, gazing in awe at the radiance emanating from his sword.

"It is done… now, there is but one final step." Zelda speaks calmly, causing my avatar to turn his attention to her once more.

"What must I do?"

"As a key opens the lock upon a door or chest, so too does your blade serve as the key to the gates of time itself." Zelda explains sagely. "Use it as such, and these gates shall open."

"The hero turns his eyes back to the shimmering blade and nods, raising the blade before him, he turns himself away from the princess. His eyes focus on the luminous steel, the glowing radiance filling his sight and mine in turn, before he thrusts the blade forward with a swift, precise lunge. As if passing through an invisible wall, the shimmering brand pierces the surrounding void, disappearing into the azure nothingness that surrounds us. A faint light steams out from rift created by the sword, dancing and flashing with myriad hues all at once.

_S-sadon…!_

I feel my avatar's sword arm twitch a split second before he twists his wrist, causing the blade to rotate like… a key to a lock. So that is what the princess meant when she explained his role. With a deft tug of his arm, the hero pulls the blade free from the breach he created, causing even more of the iridescent light to steam from the opening. A sound like that of splintering ice assaults my ears as the area surrounding the rift splits and cracks with uniform precision, creating a web of light within the empyrean expanse.

A deafening shatter heralds the collapse of this web. Fragments of reality – for what little existed within this place – fall and shatter, dispersing into a cloud of glowing dust before vanishing completely. In their place is a massive fissure several times taller, and many times wider than either the hero or princess. Its body ripples like water caressed by a gentle breeze, and vague shapes flash in and out of view upon its crystal clear surface, appearing and disappearing before I can identify them.

"Elvaloriel's final gift to us…" The hero says in awe, gazing at the rippling portal before him as he returns his blade to its scabbard.

"A chance to start anew… to create a better future than the one we know." Zelda appends.

The two turn their eyes away from the gateway before them, and focus instead on each other. Her lips once more shape themselves into a beautiful smile, and I feel the hero do the same as he moves his hand forward, taking her fingers gently within his own. He exhales softly, a small inkling of melancholy glancing at his spirit before he forces it away once more.

"I suppose it is time, then…" He says.

"Yes…"

A single word… her only reply before she falls silent once more. She gazes into his eyes, revealing her own to me beyond them as he grips her hand a little more in his. His other hand moves to her face, and I feel the delicate softness of her skin as my avatar's fingers gently caress her cheek. She does not flinch, nor does she turn away from this, though her eyes seem to flutter in apprehension as her fingers tighten around his. A warm sensation feels the hero's heart and mine in turn as he draws her face closer to his, guiding her toward him gently.

"Please… not now."

Her voice is little more than a whisper, but it serves to bring my avatar back to reality regardless. He recoils slightly, as if only now becoming aware of his actions. His grip upon her hand loosens, and he removes his fingers from her cheek. A sense of dejection fills his being as a heaviness falls upon our conjoined hearts.

"I… forgive me." He says contritely. "I… did not mean to presume."

"No, you must understand…" She retorts hastily, gripping his hand a little more firmly in hers. "I know what you feel… because like you, the same feelings exist within my own heart. Yet… it is the strength that you have granted to me that is sustaining me in these final moments, and enabling me to do what I now must." She pauses for a moment, her cheeks taking on a faint turquoise hue. "If… if you were to kiss me now, I know that even that strength would not be enough. I would lose my resolve, Link and despite how we both feel… I cannot allow that."

The hero's heart seems to swell at her sincere words, and I cannot help but sigh inwardly – indeed, if I could smile, I would. "I understand."

The princess smiles in response, a genuine expression which shows both her gratitude, and her deepest affection for the young man before her. "There will be other chances… I feel it."

"How do you know?" My avatar inquires gently, though in his words I can sense that he already knows the answer.

The princess' smile widens, and she slips her hand from his, placing it gently against her heart. Upon the back of her palm, the golden emblem shines brightly – a testament to her renewed hope. "Because… that is _my_ wish."

"And a beautiful wish at that…" The hero replies warmly before turning his eyes back to the undulating portal before them. "Then let us return, Zelda… a new future awaits us."

The princess says nothing, but in her eyes both the hero and I can tell that she agrees. Hand in hand the two approach the fluent portal, pausing briefly at its entrance before stepping into the rippling surface. A swift, powerful current washes over them the moment they enter, pulling them away from the vortex's entrance as it swiftly closes behind them. A myriad images flash by in an instant – brief, vague instances of time, swimming along the current like silver fish darting through a river. The princess and hero turn toward one another one last time, as the stream carries them along. Their eyes lock, her expression, and his spirit reflecting the same feelings.

Mine as well.

As the currents of time carry the two along its flow, I cannot help but wonder if another presence watches from behind those beautiful blue eyes of hers… If another formless spirit stares from those twin orbs, and into his, feeling the emotions and experiences from her as I had from him. And I wonder, perhaps… if that person now gazes upon the body of the hero from behind her eyes, and wonders the same. As I muse on this, I watch as the form of the golden haired princess slowly begins to fade, her body vanishing into the currents as they continue to pull the two of them along time's flow.

But when she finally disappears completely, there is no dejection, or sorrow within the hero's spirit. His mind is calm… content in their shared belief that they will one day meet again. His eyes turn to his left hand as it, and the mark it bears slowly begin to fade along with rest of his body, just as the princess had done only seconds before. Tranquility fills his soul, and he allows his head to lull back, closing his eyes as he allows the currents to take him. The images, and swirling lights fade from my sight as I feel my connection to the young man begin to gradually dissolve along with his body. Yet I can still hear his final words as he gives himself over to the temporal river's embrace, before the bond is finally severed.

"I promise, I will return to you, Zelda. My princess… My friend… My love."

* * *

_ShiningwingX: Ah, the old prologue. Brings back memories. Fans of Ocarina of Time can clearly see this is based off of the ending of the game, and fans of the old TotH: DM would clearly remember this as an altered version of the prologue from the old story. I deviated even further from canon this time around, and this time the narrator is a different Link, though he's looking through the eyes of the Hero of Time right now. I tried writing in a different style to make the story seem more 'bookish' but it seems fanfiction doesn't like my formatting... so it's back to the old structure for now. Oh well, my girlfriend brought up that the 'wall of text' structure books use is a bit of an eyesore and I agree. I'll have to fix it up like that later on, but not for a while so it's fine like this.  
_

_I really like the way this came out though. At first I wasn't sure if the whole 'first person as third person' concept would work that well, but I really got into it after a while. I think it makes the chapter seem a lot more surreal and mysterious without being mind-bendingly strange. Moreover, once the first chapter is released, this will seem more like an actual PROLOGUE than the one in _DM_. The way I did that one always felt like it was better suited for a 'Chapter I'. Hmm…_

_Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed this new beginning to the book!_

_And now for everyone's favorite part of these author's note thingies (As in, I'm assuming because I don't know if anyone even READS these): Key points!_

_1. No, I didn't consume any mind altering substances when adding the "speaking" quotes from Link-narrator :P. He's actually speaking Kokirian. Why is he speaking in this language, yet the narration is in English (or Hyrulean, if you want to be technical about it)? Two reasons. One, it would be far too difficult to write seven-thousand plus words in Kokirian, and two, no one but me would be able to understand it. Moreover, the narration is his thought processes, not his actual VOICE, so I can get away with it. Translations are on the Ismirrian Chronicles (the story's loresite), so you can visit there if you want to know what he's saying._

_2. What do you all think of the connection between Link-Narrator and the Hero of Time? I wanted to make it seem less like the narrator was simply a third wheel in all this, but without playing the rather cliché 'mind reader' card. I figured an empathetic connection was more appropriate._

_3. Elvaloriel is the Goddess of Time in this world. In the last story I gave props to a DeviantArtist (Kearra who is still awesome by the way.) for many of the divines in this world. Given the more original direction the story is taking, I can't really do that anymore. However, I am still taking inspiration from these so people might notice some similarities if you're familiar with her._

_4. I always found it odd that the Hero of Time, one who has been traveling back and forth through it over the course of the game had no apparent role to play in the events at the very end, though Zelda somehow miraculously gained the ability to do so. So I made the 'return to the past' thing a collective effort between them. Makes a bit more sense._

_5. I feel like I made the physical Link and Zelda more consistent this time around. In the original version of the story, they seemed a little… indecisive. And for the wrong reasons. I had more freedom this time around to do what I wanted with them though, and I think it shows._

_All in all, I think this is a good start on this new road I'm taking. I hope you all have enjoyed this prologue because there's more to come. In the next chapter, our narrator Link will finally get center stage. :)_

_If you want to look up translations, or anything else related to the story, check this site out. www trialsoftheheartdm webs com (Replaces the spaces with periods. Fanfiction doesn't like links, it seems. I'll fix it up more to suit the new direction of this story too, I promise)._

_Also, anyone who has read the old version of the story knows how much I love reviews. *wink wink, nudge nudge*_


	2. Chapter I: A Home Within the Trees

_ShiningwingX: Greetings all ye wonderful readers. Here we are again with the first true chapter of Trials of the Heart: Angel's Call! I had to go through and edit and re-edit this thing quite a bit because for some reason it didn't want to come out right for a while. Originally, this chapter was much longer than it is now… but I noticed that half way through it really shifted gears and I figured it would be easier to just split it in two (I know… I do that a lot)._

_What that essentially means is that I was able to finish chapter II much quicker than I thought… because I'd already basically written it. Even after that though I still had to extensively edit this chapter because I kept getting those oh-so pesky new ideas and inspirations as I went along. I think both this chapter and the next will be much better because of it though._

_So with that, I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter. I'll be getting to work on Chapter III very soon._

_Theme Music:_

_**Drifting – Nobuo Uematsu (Final Fantasy VIII Soundtrack)**_

_**Nara – E.S. Posthumous**_

_**Resurging of Kakariko Village – Koji Kondo (The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess Soundtrack)**_

_**For Originz – Kevin MacLeod**_

* * *

**Chapter I: A Home Within the Trees**

* * *

Awareness finally begins to return to me once more, drawing my attention to the warmth surrounding my body from all around. For a brief instant, I am confused as to where I am before conciousness' coaxing hand restores the memories left behind during my slumber. A faint glow flickers across my closed eyes, rousing me into the waking world once more and like a pair of heavy shutters, my eyelids slowly open to the dawning light.

This is my home… my bed.

My vision is blurry, and so I lay still for a moment, blinking my tired eyes and allowing it to come into focus. Images swirl with innumerable shades of brown before me, dancing upon the circular ceiling before slowly receding into their true, ring-like forms. My fingers twitch as my body struggles to match the level of awareness my mind has, and my pointed ears pick up the faint twittering of a myriad birds in the distance. A few seconds later, reality finally sets in, and I awkwardly push myself up from the soft pelt upon which I lay, settling myself into a sitting position.

My hand immediately shoots to my forehead.

"Argh…!"

My palm crashes against my brow with an impact that might have sent my body reeling back onto the mattress where it not for the counterforce borne of my upper body doubling forward at that very same instant. My fingers and palm clench against my temples as a searing pain pulses within my skull. My teeth clinch tightly behind my lips as a million images flash through my mind all at once, forcing their way relentlessly to the forefront of my thoughts. Through the pain, the events that I had witnessed during my slumber come crashing through my mind once more like a charging marosk. I remember everything almost instantly: The strange lights, the two Hylians and their woeful tale, the way they had opened a rift into the river of time itself… and my own feelings during that strange vision. All of it… restored in an instant like the reigniting ashes of an extinguished flame.

But… that was merely a dream… was it not?

The pain, and the vivid remembrance of what I'd seen during it suggest otherwise. My hand remains fixed firmly against my skull as if clawing desperately for purchase upon the cliffs of my mind, as I try in vain to gain control over these memories, as well as the fiery pain that accompanies them.

Then, almost as quickly as it came, the pain fades into nothingness. A dull throb is all that remains of the burning sensation that had all but consumed my focus. Yet the memories remain. As if an invisible hand had branded my skull with its permanent mark, I remember everything that had occurred whilst I slept.

"Sità… ves dível?" I groan aloud, though I expect no answer to come.

I sit in silence for a moment, my head continuing to rest within my shaky palm. Little by little the remainder of the pain slowly vanishes, and I express my relief for this at the end of a long sigh. I remain still for some time, pondering the images that continue to swim through the rivers of my mind… wondering what they might mean. It is clear to me that the events I'd witnessed as I slept hold much more significance than a meaningless dream. Truly, no mere dream could do something like this.

Should I speak to someone about this? Perhaps Saria could offer some insight on what I'd experienced. Or perhaps Kyun and Jix…

Kyun and Jix?

My thoughts grind to an abrupt halt the moment they fall upon the latter two names. A split second later, my eyes widen as I remember something else… something unrelated to the dream I'd just had. Kyun and Jix… I am to meet them today, and quite soon at that. I quickly shake my head, forcing away the last traces of dizziness, before throwing off the hide blanket that covers me as I stagger unsteadily to my feet. The persistent memories still plague my thoughts, but I force myself to focus on other things. Namely, my preparations for the day ahead.

I glance around my small abode, making sure that everything is in order. It is but a single room, small and circular, but perfect for a child such as I. A small window sits above the assembled hides that make up my bed, and from this a few rays of light stream in from outside, caressing the room with their glowing fingers. It is a simple room, and largely unfurnished but for the barest of necessities. The walls are rough and rigid, characterized by the bark they are made of, whilst the floor and ceiling are of a lighter shade, naturally adorned by a number of concentric circles. A simple, cylindrical table sits near my bed, away from the window, its form protruding from the wooden floor making it seem like little more than a simple stump within the hollowed trunk from which it protrudes. Two wooden surfaces jut from the walls in a parallel fashion, curving about the circular arc of my home. A few folded garments and small items rest upon them, stored away from the rest of the room until they are needed. Beneath these, two simple scabbards, one larger than the other, lean against the wall, each one clinging protectively to the weapons they hold.

It is not much, but to me, it is home.

I proceed to the aforementioned shelves and lighten their burden of a few of the garments, before returning to my bedside to change. I drop the items carelessly upon the table before relieving myself of the previous day's clothing, allowing it to settle into a pile at my feet.

A pair of white leggings spun from skulltula silk, unadorned save for the rhythmic stitching that maintains their shape and function, and a similarly tailored undershirt rest on top of the pile of unsoiled clothing. Beneath these lays a simple rough spun tunic, green in color, its laces scattering as they protrude from within the openings within the fabric. I dress quickly, pulling on the leggings and shirt first before reaching for the tunic, and allowing the short sleeved garment to slide easily over my head before corralling the laces together into a few secure knots. A pair of brown boots of fanellu leather rests against the curve of the nearby wall, and I slide these on one at a time, securing them in place upon my feet. A simple belt of similar make hangs nearby and I quickly take this in hand, pulling it from its place of rest and sliding it through the loops of my tunic, fastening it around my waist.

I make a quick mental note, going over everything I've gathered thus far before frowning. It feels as if I'm forgetting something… something important. The reason for this feeling becomes abundantly clear not a moment later as my thoughts turn to the item in question. I glance about for a moment before my eyes fall upon the familiar article – a green windsock cap of similar make to that of the tunic hugging my torso. I take this in hand before gathering up my hair and pulling the hat over my head, holding it in place as the long strands fall back into place within the fabric. After a few moments, I take up my sword and hunting knife from where they rest beneath the shelves and secure them to my belt before making my way to fur-lined portal that serves as the entrance and exit to my home. I brush the hide covering aside, allowing more of the morning light to stream into the room briefly as I duck beneath it, and step into the village beyond. My vision quickly adjusts to the change in lighting, as I scan the area around me.

Nieraki. The hidden village of the Kokiri.

My home rests upon its boundaries, and from the deck I have a fine view of the village. A large cluster of trees stands tall about the area, their trunks many times wider, and hundreds of times taller than even the tallest of the Forest Children. Their branches reach toward the heavens, blanketing the village beneath a thick umbrella of green, red, and violet leaves, and from these stream countless shining rays from Sálenòtenrie beyond. Their trunks extend beneath the lower foliage, where their roots lay buried deep within the earth below. It is from these that the village is formed. Each is hollowed out in a similar fashion to my own, forming the homes, shops, and other structures that the tribe uses day by day. Yet the trees, unaffected by their change in form and purpose, continue to bare both fruit and leaf, their lives sustained by the abundant magics permeating the forest. _Tàreki_ they are called, and it is from these that our village is formed.

Fur coverings mark the entrances of each structure from above and below, and affixed to these are simple wooden decks similar to the one upon which I stand. A number of suspension bridges extend from each tree, creating an intricate web of walkways and tiers. Along these move a number of small bodies, and each one is accompanied by the glowing light of a Fairy. A network of long, slender vines extend from the homes and shops of the Kokiri, reaching downward to the bottom tier of the village. Their destination is always the same: a great wooden surface in the center of the village's bottom level, enclosed by an intricate web of violet and viridian vines.

This surface rests upon the zenith of a great trunk many times broader than any other tree in the village. No branches, leaves or fruits hang from this, and the surface is smooth and flat, without the jagged edges borne from a tree that might have been felled by a powerful wind – and indeed, no wind could possibly have felled so great a tree during its life. It is as if a god or towering giant had simply hewn away the massive tree's canopy, leaving only its colossal trunk as a reminder if its existence. And for all I know, that may very well have been. For among the Kokiri this great pillar in the center of their village is known as the _Adouindoklel_: The Trunk of the Third Father.

I grab hold of a wooden apparatus that hangs nearby, my fingers closing around a thick vine similar to that from which it hangs. Turning back toward the village, I plant my foot upon the railing of the deck, and leap from its edge. My arm shudders slightly as gravity pulls at my body, but my firm grip on the vine ensures that it does nothing more as I allow the apparatus to guide me steadily down to the surface of the Adouìndóklel.

A light thud announces the end of my descent as my boots meet the hard wood below. I look around, watching as a number of puerile forms move about, traveling to and from the great arboreal plane as they go about their business within the village. A percussive chorus of feet upon wood announces the arrival of those who come upon the vines, whilst the light footfalls of others swell and fade as they pass. Flitting shadows of those moving above, amidst the bridges adds to that of the swaying leaves of the canopy. Some pass by without notice whilst others nod or wave friendly greetings to one another – a few of these are directed at me, to which I return. The flickering of dozens of small, glowing figures adds to the rays of light that stream in from above, each one cast by the radiance of the Fairies who share our home. Mundane childlike voices meld with mature, resonating ones, creating an incomprehensible hum throughout the village.

"Kyun alren til foren…" I mutter to myself as I scan the area.

My ears twitch however as I hear a sound rise above the banter of the villagers, as if in answer to my comment. A short, high pitched whistle rings out, the sound focused and directed with me as the clear recipient. I turn in the direction from whence the sound came, and am immediately met with a familiar sight.

The eyes of a Kokirian boy are focused upon me as he descends to the Adouindoklel's surface in a similar fashion as I. He is slender in build, but is both strong of arm and agile, his abilities honed from many years of life in the forest. His long straight hair is of a deep brown hue similar to that of rich soil, bound in segments along its length to keep it from flying about. His dark green eyes shine with vigor, gleaming with life and energy but a faint scar mars his left cheek, making him appear significantly older than other Kokiri. Yet his disposition is anything but imposing. On the contrary, he almost seems to resonate with the aura of one who lives for no other purpose than to enjoy all that life brings.

A simple bow and quiver of arrows rests comfortably upon his back, and his attire is quite similar to my own. A green tunic, almost identical to the one I wear covers his upper body, though the cut is slightly different. It is longer, more loosely fitting than mine, the fabric fluttering behind the boy as he descends the line while the twin ends of a deep green fillet engage in a similar dance, flailing about his head like a pair of frenzied birds. His leggings and shirt are of a similar make to my own, but their fabric has been dyed a deep shade of brown to better blend with the trees and soil. A pair of boots identical to mine cover his feet, and these add another voice to the chorus of alighting bodies upon the Adouindoklel's surface.

A shimmering Fairy lands idly upon his shoulder, its body bathed in a bright orange light. From a distance it appears to be no more than a glowing ball, yet I know the form that lies beneath just as well as I know its partner. The silhouette of a young man resides within the light, his skin and flowing hair of a color identical to his glow. His only attire is a simple pair of leggings, sewn from what appear to be a number of small leaves. His face seems fixed in a constant smile, but the playful expression he wears belies the wealth of knowledge that shines within his grain-sized eyes.

"Sàlontikal, Link." The Kokirian boy greets, sauntering over to me from where he'd landed.

"Sàlontikal, Kyun." I reply, returning his smile with one of my own.

"Below live the Deku, who tend the seeds." He speaks, relinquishing our mother tongue.

"Above, the Kokiri, their home in the trees." I recite, doing the same.

The boy nods approvingly. "Your Hyrulean… much improved, Link."

His words are spoken slowly as he speaks in the less familiar language. I nod gratefully at his compliment, replying with one of my own. "Yours… also improved, Kyun."

"Has he?" The Fairy pipes up, his own words much more fluent than ours. "Strange… to me, he still sounds like a cerévorn trapped in erektòn vines."

"Umèlóste, Jix!" Kyun retorts, slipping back into Kokirian.

The Kokiri raises his left arm and delivers a half-hearted swat in the Fairy's direction. I am not certain if Kyun understood what he meant - It makes little sense to speak so of that creature - but he clearly heard the insult in the sprite's voice. Jix laughs mockingly as he takes to the air, deftly avoiding Kyun's attack by dipping beneath his arm. The orange Fairy's wings flutter excitedly behind him as he hovers in the air, mocking his brown haired companion. Kyun glares at him, but the Fairy simply smirks in response. I chuckle slightly at the comical exchange, thankful to finally have some distraction from the memories of the previous night.

For some months now, Kyun and I have been studying the language commonly spoken in kingdom that borders our sylvan home. Unlike the rest of the forest children, my blood is not one with the Kokiri, but the Hylian race that resides within that Kingdom. I know little of it, save the tales spoken by some of the older Kokiri, or brief mentions of it from the outsiders who stumble into the forest's embrace via Lost Gates. Said tales are often laced with superstition and mystery however, and the outsiders who enter never remain for long so I know not how true my limited knowledge is.

I was skeptical at first about how useful the language would be to me… indeed, I have lived within the forest for as long as I can remember, and have never been faced with an instance where such knowledge would have been helpful. However, it was Saria who convinced me that one day, such knowledge may indeed prove useful to me. Indeed, it would likely be more useful to me than it would for anyone else within the village due to my own Hylian blood. It was enough of a reason for me, and the smile she gave at my acquiescence only made it more worth it.

Kyun for his own part has always been secretive about his reason for wishing to learn the language as well. He is not of Hylian stock as I am, yet he was quick to appeal to Saria to teach him as well. Perhaps it is merely due to his uncharacteristic interest in the mysteries and intrigues that exist beyond the forest's boughs… but I suspect his eagerness more likely stems from his interest in Saria herself. I grin at the thought before my mind returns to the matter at hand – the very reason for my meeting with the russet haired Kokiri and his ochre companion.

"Cerévorn…" I muse, the name bringing another thought to my mind. "Aranalk waits?"

"Ah!" Kyun begins, dropping his facetious expression. "_Jiras-lim_. He should."

"Then should _we_ not be going?" Jix replies, fluttering between the two of us. "The game will not hunt itself after all… unless you two would prefer another of Mido's tongue lashings instead."

"Mido's face… How will I green it today?" Kyun smirks at the prospect of irritating his hot blooded rival. He has always taken every opportunity to break his 'record'. The Kokiri nods however, and starts off toward the largest of the bridges leading away from the Adouindoklel.

I follow a few paces behind my companions, falling once more into deep thought. With the convivial exchange from two of my closest friends behind me, the memories from the night before are left to freely invade my mind once again. My head continues to swim with images of dancing lights, gleaming swords, and the fair visage of the woman – the princess – to whom my counterpart was so fond. Who was she? And who was he? If what I saw was indeed more than a simple dream, then what was it? And why is it revealed to me now?

"Link?" Kyun's voice snaps me from my reverie as his hand rests upon my shoulder. So immersed I was in my thoughts, that I did not realize that the Kokiri had slowed his pace, and now stands beside me.

"Si… sità?" The words instinctively escape my lips, and I slap my forehead before correcting myself. "What?"

The Kokirian boy frowns in unmasked concern. "I said 'You are well?'. You are… slowing."

"I…" I look ahead, and notice that I've barely moved more than a few paces from my original position. Jix's orange light glows from up ahead, already more than half way across the arched wooden bridge that leads to our destination.

"You act… strange Link." He says pointedly. "Distracted."

He's not wrong. My mind has been clouded ever since awakening from that odd dream. For some reason, no matter how I try I am unable to oust it from my thoughts. It continues to claw at my mind like a parasite eating way all else so that only its memory remains. I open my mouth to speak, but before I am able to do so, Jix chimes in, silencing my words before I've a chance to speak them.

"He likely had a restless sleep, that's all. It will fade if he stays active." Jix calls from where he hovers ahead of us. The diminutive fey does not realize how close to the truth he actually is. "You needn't worry so much about Link, Kyun. He is not the little seedling we took in all those years ago anymore, after all."

I smile gratefully in the fairy's direction. "Jix… is right. It is nothing."

Kyun's hand lingers where it is for a moment before the Kokiri nods, and moves to catch up with his orange hued companion. I follow suit, pushing the persistent thoughts to the back of my mind for now as we continue onward, crossing the bridge and making our way to the edge of the village. There would be time enough later to discuss what I'd seen with them. For now, I should focus on the Jiras-lim and fulfilling my duty as a member of the tribe.

Speaking in his articulate Hyrulean, Jix proceeds to instruct us further in the way of the language used by those who live outside the forest. Normally it is Saria who undertakes our tutelage, but her duties as the tribe's Valísved often keep her quite busy, and she is sometimes unable to make time for such things. However, Jix – either through request by Saria herself or through his own desire – seems to have taken this responsibility on himself today.

"We are Jiràsved." The fairy begins. "What is the Hyrulean word for this?"

"Jiràsved…" Kyun thinks for a moment before responding. "Hunter."

"Correct." Jix replies. Kyun grins proudly. "Next, Syldré. Our home. What is this?"

"F… forest?" I answer.

"Good."

Jix is as fine a tutor as any, and as the lesson continues I cannot help but consider just how articulately the tiny fey speaks. He voices the words as effortlessly as if they were Kokirian, and I wonder just how many other languages the convivial sprite knows. No… not just languages, but other things besides… for it is sometimes easy to forget just how intelligent and wise these diminutive beings truly are. The Kokiri may be long lived, but like the trees they live in their lives are still finite. This is not so for those of the feyfolk however, as the light which surrounds them is the aura of life itself. As long as it glows they will never succumb to illness, nor will they perish from age. With such longevity, each of them surely must possess a wealth of knowledge that would envy even the wisest of mortals.

Within moments we reach the other side of the bridge, and find ourselves upon the apex of another arboreal pillar, similar but much smaller than that of the Adouindoklel. A section of the trunk's surface juts outward, beyond the boundaries of the supports designed to keep any hapless villagers from falling to the solid earth below. Kyun approaches this, coming to a stop at the treacherous, unprotected edge as he has many times before. The Kokiri cranes back his neck and raises his fingers to his lips before blowing sharply. A loud, simple tune rings with his breath as he whistles out into the forest.

Within seconds his call is answered, not with a corresponding whistle, but with a cacophony of sounds heralding an approach. Leaves rustle from within the thick greenery that stretches beyond our village and the groaning of strained wood reaches our ears from ahead – sounds produced by something far larger than any Kokiri. Powerful, thudding noises echo from below, each one separated by a long interval before the next rings out, louder and closer than those that came before.

The maestro of this sylvan chorus, a massive arboreal form, soon emerges from the surrounding trees. The creature is scarcely different from those that had concealed it only moments before, its body formed of a grey wood similar to many of theirs, and its canopy replete with thousands of swaying, scarlet leaves. But its shape is different. Its body is hunched forward, and it sways from side to side as it moves, causing the rays of Sàlenótenrie to dance upon its vibrant leaves. The top of its body is formed into a shape akin to a head, and the wood seems to bulge and warp around a small a thin, hollow gap, giving it the look of a mouth. Above this, a two small holes shine with a deep yellow light like a pair of glowing eyes staring out from within the being's wooden skull. Two massive, powerful limbs extend from its upper body like arms, each one ending in dozens of smaller finger-like branches and the bottom of its massive trunk is split into two, both halves moving independently in broad, lumbering motions as the creature approaches us.

"Anaralk… " Kyun says with a grin, as the cerévorn comes to a stop before us.

The towering being continues his slow, swaying motion as he turns his eyes downward to regard us. His mouth does not move, and yet his gaze alone conveys what words do not. The flash of his shimmering eyes, a greeting. A sway of his scarlet leaves, an expression of pleasantry. The crackle of his powerful branches, a question. For those with the eyes to see and ears to hear, the cerévorn can say so much with nary a word.

"Tavren Anaralk." Kyun greets the massive tree being. "Fàler fel kanìn ràn del Syldré?"

The arboreal giant does not respond vocally, but again his actions say all. With a rustling of leaves, and creaking of wooden limbs, the cerévorn raises the right of his two massive arms and slowly brings it forward, to the terrace upon which Kyun stands. His innumerable fingers gradually shift and cluster together, closing all gaps within the branches and creating a surface solid enough for us to easily stand upon. Kyun turns, and beckons to me before taking the short leap onto the tree being's hand. I follow suit, kicking off from the terrace and landing lightly upon the dense branches of Anaralk's fingers.

Satisfied that we'd both crossed successfully, Jix glides casually through the air to join us. Anaralk watches us for a moment before shifting his branches once more. The countless fingers of the cerévorn's palm begin to grow and shrink at his will, curving and bending, closing around the three of us. Like delicate seeds protected by a pod, we are soon incased within Anaralk's powerful branches. It might have been dark within, but a few openings in the cerévorn's sylvan barrier, as well as Jix's own orange glow illuminate our surroundings and allow us to see.

A slight lurch causes Kyun and I to stagger briefly – a telling sign that the arboreal creature has started to move – and we quickly right ourselves as the massive sentient tree carries us into the forest. I turn my eyes from Kyun, to Jix and back again, as my mind turns to the conversation from earlier. Namely, the first words Jix had spoken when Kyun and I demonstrated our Hyrulean. I hadn't considered the fairy's words much at the time, but now, within Anaralk's protective grasp I cannot help but turn attention to them now.

"Cerévorn trapped in erektòn vines…?" I inquire, unable to contain the question.

Kyun turns his attention to me, and through the gloom I can see that the question must have been on his mind as well. The wooden pod seems to tremble slightly as the words are spoken, and for a moment I wonder if Aranalk had actually heard them. Jix's glow seems to brighten in humor for a moment before the fairy replies.

"You do not want to know…"

* * *

_**Chapter Appendix  
**_

* * *

_1. I wanted to add something to accentuate that what Link saw in his sleep was far more than just some strange dream. The headache and rush of memories he experienced are a side effect of that strange occurrence. It is, as he said like a 'branding' upon his mind._

_2. What do you all think of this version of Nieraki? I wanted to do more to accentuate just how dangerous the forest is, even for those who live there. What I did was take the concept of Link's own house from Ocarina of Time and expand it to the entire village. The result is a tribal society that exists within the trees themselves, high above the forest floor._

_3. I feel I can better explain the Kokirian language now that we've gotten more into it. In the original story, I briefly touched upon the Kokiran language but never really got into it. Here, I decided to change that. The Kokiri are completely isolated from Hyrule and any other society outside the forest. Ergo, I figured that, though somewhat complicated, it would make much more sense for them to possess their own language and NOT be as well versed in Hyrulean (English). Link's dialect will (eventually) improve, so don't worry. He won't be speaking like this forever._

_4. Saria actually won't appear for another couple of chapters but I wanted to mention her some here to give some insight on how important she is both to Link and Kyun, and to the rest of the tribe._

_5. In Kokirian, Jiras-lim translates to 'Hunt of Dawn'. This is important to know for the next chapter._

_6. Anyone who has read _The Lord of the Rings_ can probably tell that the Cerévorn are basically Ents. They are massive but gentle tree spirits whom the Kokiri communicate with and gain assistance from to travel from their village, to the forest floor and vice-versa. Though they possess mouths, they do not often speak, communicating instead through their movements and actions. I'll probably explain them in more detail on the Loresite._

_I feel like this chapter kicks off the main story in a more consistent way than the original did. As opposed to just fading into consciousness in the Master Sword chamber with no real reason as to why it worked like it did (like I tried to do in the old story) this one begins much more believably with Link simply 'waking up' from his dream in the village he lives in. I always had some misgivings about how I never explained how Link just 'appeared' where and when he was supposed to. I'm hoping that the rest of the story will remain as consistent and evenly paced as this chapter has been._

_With that, I don't really have much more to say about this one. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and I'll begin work on Chapter III shortly so I can get the next one up as soon as possible._

_Also I like reviews. Please give me some. Preferably with pudding. _


	3. Chapter II: The Jiràs-lim

_ShiningwingX: Greetings everyone. It's been a couple of months since I've released something. Longer than I'd hoped, but not longer than I've been working. Chapter III has been through a few rewrites as I've thought and rethought where I want various events to take place. Pretty certain it's pretty much in its 'final state' now, so I can finally release this and start work on Chapter IV. I hope this one here has been worth the wait._

_Theme music:_

_**Ah Nee Mah – Red Tower**_

_**Ah Nee Mah – Sacred Ground**_

_**David Arkenstone – Fire and Water**_

_**Ah Nee Mah – Ancient Voices**_

* * *

**Chapter II: The Jiràs-lim**

* * *

Thirty-one… thirty-two… thirty-three…

The sounds of Aranalk's slow, heavy footfalls continues from outside the arboreal shell, each announcing itself with a crunching thud upon the earth far below. Kyun has removed his quiver from his back, and currently occupies his time by inspecting each of the arrows while Jix flutters casually nearby, offering his light to chase away the shadows and ease his companion's task. He holds one of the projectiles up to his eyes, scanning every inch of it from the tip to the flights. A number of identical, brown feathered shafts sit next to him – those that have failed his inspection and are like to be discarded or recycled for later use. After a moment he nods in satisfaction, returning the current projectile to his quiver. It seems this one was more fortunate than the others, and will likely see its purpose fulfilled within the string of his bow.

Thirty-seven… thirty-eight… thirty-nine…

I stand in the relative darkness nearby, focusing my sharp Hylian ears on the sound of the Cerévorn's steps. I know not to disturb Kyun while he works, but unlike him I have nothing with which to occupy my own time, and so I often find myself counting the number of steps it takes for us to reach our hunting grounds. It is not as glorious a preparation as the Kokiri's perhaps, but it does at least serve to keep my mind from drifting back to the events of the previous night. Even now they claw persistently at my thoughts, attempting to rest my attention from the task ahead. While I am certain that once we begin the Jiràs-lim, I will be too far too preoccupied to pay any mind to these, the wait itself is a taxing endeavor indeed.

Forty-four… forty-five… forty-

No… the Cerévorn's forty-sixth step never falls. He stops, and after a brief moment, I feel the disorienting sensation of being lowered to the ground wash over me. It seems we've arrived sooner than expected. Either Aranalk's strides were longer this day or else he took a shorter path. No matter. I toss those petty thoughts aside as a slight impact jars the sylvan barrier, and my gut settles as our descent comes to a halt. The dim light glowing between the gaps begins to grow in volume and intensity as the myriad branches composing our surroundings slowly begin to retract, relinquishing us from their protective embrace. Within but a few moments, the branches we stand upon once more resemble the shape of an open, many-fingered palm and before us, Aranalk's massive frame kneels upon the ground, glowing eyes focusing once more upon us.

Kyun and I step from the arboreal giant's fingers, the dull thud of our leather boots upon the damp earth heralding our arrival into the vast and vibrant forest. Jix reclaims his normal position at Kyun's side as the Kokiri turns to regard the massive, but kind creature.

"Bàlinetón, Aranalk." Kyun says gratefully. "Ràn yiel palékin çèviden."

The creak of wooden joints and the rustle of leaves accompanies the cerévorn as he rises, once more assuming his true, towering height. His gaze remains upon us for a moment, a gentle warmth radiating within them, offering silent well-wishes for our coming hunt. Then he turns, his massive swaying body shifting away from us before his powerful limbs begin to move, carrying him away to the east with slow, lumbering strides. Within moments, his sylvan kin take him once more as he disappears into the thickness of the forest.

The three of us rest for a moment, grateful to feel still earth beneath our boots once more after the brief, but always befuddling trip. It is a small rest however, and after a moment we begin to move, traipsing through the forest in the direction opposite of that, which the cerévorn had taken.

Where once we stood high above, nestled within the boughs of the trees, now we walk upon the ground, a pelt of lush plant-matter of varying shades of greens and blues replacing the hard, sturdy wood of our village. Trees of limitless sizes and shapes extend from the ground, their large, thick roots burrowing into the rich earth, drawing deep of the life-giving nutrients there. Their canopies extend toward the heavens like a myriad arms reaching towards the two bright spheres that shine from above, the smaller of these grasping at the thin rays missed by their larger kin. Most are naked, save their own bark, but a few are clothed in thin layers of moss or lichen like that which covers the ground. Short but thick shrubs grow in places not already occupied by their trunked brethren, some bearing leaves and others, needles. My ears perk as a thousand invisible voices cry out from the depths of the forest, as birds and insects alike sing their morning song.

A thick, violet mist veils the forest, laying crawling upon the ground amidst the roots and about our feet. It thins and disperses as it rises higher into the air, falling back to the floor as if fleeing from the rays of pale sunlight that filter in through the leaves. The mist is dense and heavy, obscuring the surrounding trees, and hanging vines beneath its lilaceous pall. The violet miasma seems to dance within the stillness of the air, moving as if alive, or guided by some faint breeze that can be neither seen nor felt. A scent like that of sweet, cloying flowers taunts my senses, yet no such plants grow so deep within the forest, where the light they require to flourish is so scarce. The source of the smell is the mist itself: at times pleasant and enticing, at others cloying and sickening. A mist both beautiful and sinister, sweet and disgusting at the same time.

The _Lenshæda_.

All who live within the forest know the dreadful secret that it hides. For despite its beauty and pleasing fragrance, this mist is naught but a blight upon the forest and a poison to those foolish or unfortunate enough to venture in from Outside. It almost seems to hold a will of its own – and a malicious one at that – for it lures outsiders deep into the forest and corrupts them, leading them into slow death, or else changing them in both body and mind. It draws them to the forest from lands beyond through use of the Vànalók – gates of its own making, tethered to outside lands through some fell means – before slowly consuming them, turning them into slaves, or worse.

Not even the forest itself is spared the influence of this dreadful mist. Like a parasite it eats away at our home, slowly changing and corrupting it in similar fashion. Trees rot or mutate into dark, evil forms, and beasts become violent and frenzied, killing and consuming all they can. It is within the Lenshæda that the Kóldaréken – the wicked beasts – dwell, appearing as if from nothing from within the mist.

From whence it came, or when its corruption began, none know but over countless centuries, many have attempted to discover a way to quell its influence. Saria, and many Kinósved are among the latest of these, yet despite their wisdom all attempts thus far have been in vain. There are those places that remain free of the wicked mist and its influence. The grove of Rohtànketzel is one such place, for what is an evil mist compared to a god? Nieraki is another, for it too grows within the hallowed soils where the Father once stood. Yet such places are dwindling, and the once bright spirit of the wood grows dimmer and darker with each passing year. Slowly but surely our forest, our home, is dying. Much now lies in darkness and our once great and vibrant wood is now a but a shadow of what it once was. The Lenshæda has become as much a part of the forest as the Kokiri or even the trees themselves, though it is heartbreaking indeed to watch our home slip further and further into decay.

"The Lenshæda seems thinner today." Jix says, breaking the silence.

My mind takes a moment to process what the Fairy had said before I focus my attention once more on the surrounding amethyst veil and realize that he is right. My sight pierces much deeper into it than it normally would, and the scent, though just as sweet is faint in the breeze. It is little consolation however. Thin or thick, I've no love for the violet mist that surrounds us

"But Lenshæda, always changing." Kyun begins with some wariness in his voice. "Safer in trees."

To this, we all agree and so we continue on, swiftly but carefully through the roiling mist, searching for a way into the forest's understory to better continue our hunt. Damp leaves cushion our footfalls, and a few of their brethren come to join them, drifting down the branches they were plucked from either by a breeze or the scampering of some animal. My wariness only grows as we continue along through the thick, tangled wood. Despite the many times I have left the village – either to hunt or for other reasons – the sight and smell of the lilaceous miasma never fails to unnerve me. We are of the forest, and so the poisons within the mist are not a danger to us. The Kóldaréken however, are.

To my right, I am sure Kyun feels the same as I, for every now and again, I hear the breath enter his nose as he focuses his keen sense of smell on our surroundings, searching for any shift or change in the sweet scent that might suggest nearby peril. My own Hylian nose is far less sensitive than the Kokiri's, but what I lack in this is made up for with both sight and hearing and I begin to utilize these, scanning the thick forest with my gaze and perking my ears for the sounds of any danger lurking within the violet fog. Rather than being comforted by the thinned mist, I find myself liking the purple veil even less than usual. Figures seem to form within the fog just on the periphery of my vision, but the moment I turn to look at them they are gone. It almost feels as if the Lenshæda is taunting us… but to what end?

"There." Kyun speaks after a moment, pointing to a gnarled old tree in the distance. "We climb."

I nod a silent reply as the three of us make our way over to the tree, its rough, dark grey trunk is covered in knots and holes left behind by the myriad animals who have used its wood for shelter over the years. Nothing resides here now, however, its previous inhabitants having left their homes and shelters long ago either through choice or through the force of other creatures. Yet, though scarred, bent and writhen the old one lives on, its sturdy branches continuing to bare thick, viridian leaves.

I nod to Kyun, and the Kokiri boy takes a few steps back before running towards the tree, planting his foot upon a raised root, and gripping one of the thicker knots with his right hand. He pulls himself ever upward, his small but strong Kokirian body effortlessly moving vertically along the old tree's twisted surface before disappearing into the thick leaves at the top. I follow suit, travelling along the same path he had. The bark is rough beneath my fingers, perfect for gripping. Within seconds, my fingers find purchase upon the lowest of the tree's thick branches, and using this I hoist myself up into its sheltering boughs. Kyun offers me a hand up as we perch next to one another upon the low branches.

Jix arrives a moment later, his gossamer wings emitting a light hum as he flutters before us. "Come. This area should provide good hunting for us. There is a path through the branches this way."

The Fairy turns and darts away in the direction he'd come without waiting for a reply. Kyun and I follow swiftly behind the tiny fey, guided forward by his amber glow. I push aside the thick blanket of leaves, revealing the path that Jix had spoken of. A number of trees stand clustered close together, their thick, solid branches entangling with one another. Small gaps separate each cluster of limbs, but these are easily clearable for one who lives above the ground as we do.

Bending my legs slightly, I kick off from the branch that currently supports my weight, sending my body soaring through the air, and toward the first of these. A slight shudder of wood and rustle of leaves heralds my landing as my boots meet the solid wood of the forest's thick lower boughs. A similar sound from nearby informs me that Kyun is close behind, and so I continue on, following the light of his companion with my friend in tow.

I pause a few moments later, catching sight of something further on. I give a gesture of silence to Kyun as I move quietly onwards, coming in time upon the thin leaves and tall, slender trunk of another tree, set apart from its thickly knit kin. I leap softly from the treepath and land lightly upon its thin branches, moving swiftly toward the trunk where the branches would be stronger. I examine the smooth, barkless bole for only a moment. Indeed, even an untrained sproutling would notice it from this distance.

"Marks…" I whisper softly, as I hear Kyun and Jix behind me. "Marks of small creature… fresh."

A small sound draws my attention from the marks upon the tree – leaves rustling some distance ahead, though no winds blow through the forest at present. Something is hidden within. I raise my arm slowly, giving Kyun a silent signal to draw his bow. The Kokiri complies, fetching the weapon and a well fletched arrow from his back before silently sniffing the air, attempting to identify the unseen creature.

"Utele." He hisses, just loud enough for me to hear.

I nod in understanding, perking my ears and following the noises, scanning the leaves for any sign of movement. Though Kyun is far my superior in the way of the bow, his keen sense of smell is not enough to locate the exact position of this particular quarry. The sounds stop abruptly after a moment, and I turn my gaze this way and that, unsure of if the Utele had picked up our own scent and subsequently fled from the danger. Just as I am preparing to call our loss however, I notice the slightest quiver in the leaves, no more than four leaps from our current position. I turn sharply and point silently toward the cluster, taking care not to make any noise and alert our prey.

Kyun responds in an instant, nocking the arrow into his bow and, letting it fly upon the exact trajectory I'd indicated. The arrow's sharp point cuts through the air before disappearing into the smallest of gaps between the leaves. A dull thump, and a small high pitched squeak ring out from the dense foliage before silence rules once more.

The leaves again fall silent. I see no other movement within the neighboring boughs. Kyun nods to Jix, who responds by flying toward the site of the brief commotion. The orange Fairy disappears into the foliage for only a moment before returning to us, a look of triumph on his diminutive visage. It does not take a hunter, Jiràsved or otherwise to tell what he is trying to convey. In silent agreement, Kyun and I make our way over to the place his arrow had struck.

A much larger breadth separates us from the tree where the arrow had flown, but it is not long before I notice a limb roughly half way between us and our destination. It is much too high to land on and even if we could, it would be quite difficult to find footing upon such a slender thing. However, its position and size are both perfect for another use. Kyun nods in understanding, having noticed it as well, and leaps forward, throwing his arms forward to catch the hanging branch. It bends beneath his weight, but shows no signs of breaking as he effortlessly uses it to swing himself to the distant tree.

He moves quickly to the side and I follow behind, clearing the expanse with little effort and landing next to my friend. The brown haired Kokiri pulls away the shroud of leaves his arrow had passed through, and reveals the proof of his success. There, beneath the leaf covering is a small, plump rodent, covered in fine brown fur, its brush-like tail nearly twice the length of its body. Kyun's arrow sticks out from its back where it had struck, the head, buried deep within its flesh. Moving closer, my friend examines its body for a moment before turning back to us.

"Pierced heart." Kyun says in his broken Hylian. "Did not suffer."

He pushes his way through the troublesome foliage to the place where his kill now lays. The Kokiri kneels, and passes his hand above the corpse of the slain Utele before closing his eyes. He brings his hands before his chest, the thumbs and two fingers each extended and pressed together, the rest bent. He places the extended fingers of his left hand upon the knuckles of his right, a sign of prayer and reverence among the Kokiri as his normally amiable expression replaced by one of staid veneration. I follow suit, shutting sight away from my senses as my close friend begins to speak.

"Lin valier Róhtànketzel. Tahl fel lànkel nàlbàlrahn cès fel làyamar amàn fadilon idrà teldilon." He prays quietly over the creature before falling silent once more.

The_ Lànkelmaër – _the sacred rite of spirit passage among the forest people. Every Kokiri is taught this rite from the moment they emerge from the Bloom, and every Fairy knows it well. It is a ritual consisting of both a prayer and a silent vigil that guides young souls to rest and eases their passing. It is performed for each death that occurs so long as it is known and there are Kokiri or Fairies to perform it. The Jiràsved hold the rite in particularly high regard however, for they bare constant witness to the gates of life and death. It is against our will of the forest to cause suffering to any creature or to allow such suffering to continue, and therefore each kill a Jiràsved makes must be quick and painless, and the Lànkelmaër performed to send the soul peacefully to rest. Only when the rite is complete is the role of the Jiràsved finished.

I remain still and silent next to my friend as he does just that. The kill is his, and so it is he who holds the responsibility of guarding its body until its spirit has passed safely into the afterlife. Only when he is satisfied that it has, will our hunt continue. After a few moments of silent vigil, the sound of his shuffling movements tells me that it is time. I open my eyes, and watch as he approaches the small creature's body, removing his arrow and returning it to his quiver before taking the fallen animal carefully in hand.

"Good catch." He says approvingly, resuming his usual character as he looks over the Utele. "Will make good meal."

"Yes." I reply with a nod. "We move on?"

Together with Jix, the three of us continue deeper into the dim grey-green forest, moving swiftly through the trees as we continue our task, being careful not to stray to near to the Dark Places. My eyes and ears detect the faintest traces of our prey, and through Kyun's steady arm, each one of these falls to his arrows. Kyun never falters in his showing of respect for the creatures whose lives were offered in return for ours. For every kill, a prayer, and for every prayer, another vigil. The spirits of the forest and the gods above must truly admire our reverence, for it is not long before our belts are lined with the fruits of a successful hunt.

"Utele, fren, malkai… a fine bounty I must say." Jix says, fluttering to each of the different creatures, rodent and avian alike that we carry. "Even Mido could not complain about this."

"Not judge quickly." I say vilifyingly. "Mido always finds ways."

The three of us decide to take rest within the thick boughs of one of the elder trees, the morning's weariness weighing on our limbs and Jix's wings. The bole of the tree extends ever upward, reaching from the ground and parting the ghastly Lenshæda below us like a great pillar. It stands wider than the length of four Kokiri standing shoulder to shoulder, and a vast, thick web of branches extends from its surface. Many more limbs extend like fingers from these, each one baring a host of thick, dark green leaves. Kyun and I sit upon the edge of the larger branches, allowing our legs to dangle freely from the side, while Jix, as always, occupies Kyun's shoulder. So far above the forest floor, the scent of the Lenshæda below is but a hint upon the air. I take a deep breath, and laugh lightly.

"Ah… clean air!" I say, smiling contently. "Is good to smell true scent of Syldré."

"Yes." Kyun agrees. "Even to me, Lenshæda feels far away up here."

"The Lenshæda does not even reach Nieraki, but there you also have the scent of Kokiri and Fairy, and the lingering smells of cooked food or herbs gathered by the Kinósved…" Jix begins, his wings waving idly behind him. "Here, the air feels 'freer' I suppose. It is a good thing."

The moments pass slowly, but after a time we rise once more, refreshed and revitalized despite the shortness of the reprieve. Kyun casts his eyes down to his belt and mine, examining each catch with a measure of mild pride.

"Done well." He says after another moment. "Do we return? Not eaten today."

"Always with your stomach…" Jix says, and I can see the orange fairy's eyes roll in exasperation from within his glow. "But you are right… we've been out for quite some time."

It takes almost no time at all for the three of us to reach an accord. With our catches tucked safely within our belts, we turn back in the direction of the village following the treepath back the way we came, leaping from branch to branch like nimble forest cats. Familiar scenery passes by on all sides, and within but a few moments we pass the tree cluster where Kyun had felled the first of our many catches. Just as we are nearing the old tree which had served as our path into the boughs however, my ears perk. A far off sound reaches them, so soft and distant that it would have escaped the notice of anyone but a fellow Hylian.

"Veid…!" I call quietly to my two companions, the sound startling me into speaking in my mother tongue.

Kyun and Jix stop ahead of me and turn their questioning gazes in my direction. Clearly they hadn't sensed what I have. Kyun opens his mouth to speak, but I raise my hand in a gesture for silence, and he closes it again. The sound reaches my ears again, cleared this time now that I am focused on it. A deep, lowing cry echoes out from further within the forest. I listen for a moment before pinpointing its direction.

"This way." I hiss, starting off in the direction of the sound.

I sense my two friends begin to follow, as I leap along the branches, traveling steadily northward toward the sound. The further we travel, the louder the cries become, though the trees themselves are much the opposite, the gaps between them growing wider and wider with each stride and each leap. The clustered path soon becomes a labyrinth of thinning trees as I slow my pace, and begin weaving around the trunks, searching for places where the branches connect. Invading rays of sunlight, steaming through the curtain of leaves force me to stop a moment later and I squint my eyes against the glare. I allow my vision to adjust to the harsh change in light before pushing aside the viridian veil that separates us from its source.

A large clearing stretches out beyond the high risen trees, a stark contrast to the dense wood surrounding it. The eaves of the wood curve and bend around it like a stream flowing about a large, defiant stone. Light flows freely into it, making the lush plant life seem to glow in the welcome radiance, unobstructed by the verdant shroud that stretches across most of the forest. The grim vapors of the Lenshæda laps and fingers at the edges, but never does it move from the shadows of the trees, leaving the glade clear and free of violet mist. Above, the two glowing eyes are yet shrouded by the towering boughs of the surrounding trees, yet their light shines through the thinned pall of leaves, illuminating the ground below. A light breeze flows through the glade, causing the leaves and the flecks of light that shine through them to dance elegantly within. White wisps hang the air above, moving at a snail's pace through the vast, azure expanse in which they dwell.

It has been some time since I have seen the sky. As a rule, I am only afforded the briefest glimpses of it, living so deep within the forest as I do. I seldom have the opportunity to see it in all its splendor and my eyes linger there for a moment, transfixed by its azure beauty. A moment later, another deep cry pulls me back to the world below. I gaze down in the direction of the sound, and it is there that my suspicions of its maker are proven true.

"Marosk…" I whisper, sensing Kyun and Jix behind me.

A large creature stands in the center of the clearing, foraging for food amongst the lush grasses grown healthy in the vibrant light. Broad cloven hooves rip and dig into the mealy earth, leaving a mass of upturned soil in their wake. From these extend four thick, powerful legs that support a hefty looking body honed from many years living within the harshness of the forest. Thick, short hairs of dark grey fur cover the creature's body, mottled in places with darker or lighter shades. A sinewy tail extends from its backside, splitting in two midway along its length. Both halves move independently of one another, swishing and flicking back and forth behind their owner's body. Thousands of thin, but long hairs extend from the beast's neck, forming a regal looking mane around its bovid head and two long, thick horns extend from its temples, spiraling back, and then forward again, ending in two needle sharp points.

"Look at its size!" Jix exclaims quietly, his wings fluttering excitedly behind him as he hovers at Kyun's side.

"Marosk… Kokiri-ayliëvah. Gift…" I mutter, staring at the beast as it continues its grazing. My fingers brush the hilt of my knife. "Meat, fur, horns… all have use."

"Makrenfel?!" Kyun hisses in Kokirian, taken aback by my implication. "Marosk… Large and powerful. We cannot."

"This one… different." I retort, pointing toward the clearing where the Marosk grazes. "Normally many. Here only one. And horns… long like seasons' end."

Marosk horns grow constantly through their lives… it is the way to distinguish the young from the old. This one's horns are long – so long in fact that they would surely snare on the ground should the creature attempt a charge. It is clear that the beast is old, likely nearing the end of its natural lifespan. Moreover, Marosk typically travel in small groups in order to discourage predators – and Jiràsved like us – from targeting them but this one is alone… ousted from its herd. There is only one reason for this… that this Marosk was too weak or slow to keep pace with its kin, and was therefore left behind to fend for itself. Lone creatures like this typically do not last long within the forest, for they make easy prey for the carnivorous beasts that stalk beneath its boughs. Because of this, it is rare to find one such creature alive, having avoiding the hungry maws of predators. Yet here it is… standing before us within this sunlit clearing, like an offering from the forest itself.

"This one old… weak, but still alive." Kyun says, finally beginning to understand what I had noticed from the beginning. "How?"

"Its voice… on wind's breath. It called, I answered." I explain. "Now here… Marosk lit by sky fire. Kadilah Senjiràs. Gift from Róhtànketzel…"

"Should we even think of denying this opportunity?" Jix asks. "If we turn back now, we will not have another chance. Other creatures will come, and they will not hesitate… and if what Link says is true and the Forest truly is offering this unto us, what right have we to refuse?"

Both me and the fairy look to Kyun for his answer, but it is clear that he sees this situation in the same way we do. All apprehension leaves the Jiràsved. Understanding and resolve take its place. He turns his dark green eyes to me and nods, a slight smirk spreading across his face. We find a small hollow within the trunk of another large tree, and it is here that we store the fruits of our previous successes. They will be safe there, at least for a while we tend to the matter at hand, and it would not do to be weighed down with what we aim to do. All the while the Marosk hardly moves. It continues its foraging, digging at the earth for the young plant roots that it consumes, unaware of the three hunters who now stalk it.

"Marosk… strong like trees. This one old, but strong still. My arrows not enough." Kyun begins, nodding to the knife at my belt. "You heard call. Hunt is yours."

A strong sense pride wells up from within me at the Jiràsved's words. I feel honored that he would trust me with so esteemed a hunt as this one. Yet all of that trust is sure to be in vain if we fail to return to the village with such a catch in tow. With this in mind, I focus instead upon the impending hunt and allow my words to fall back into the familiar language of the Kokiri as I explain my plan to my two companions. There would be other times to practice language and I've no desire to sacrifice consistency in favor of improved dialect.

"Illin… jahl!" I order under my breath, once I am sure the three of us are all aware of our individual roles.

Without another word the three of us split up, moving toward our respective goals with a renewed haste at the prospect of returning with such a prize. I begin to weave amidst the branches once more, moving around the clearing and the horned beast within. Limbs creak under my boots, and leaves rustle as I move through them, but I am careful to make sure that these sounds do not alert the Marosk. The boughs of the forest begin to slope toward the ground as I near my destination and I make my way toward a small firàden tree on the very edge of the clearing. It is not tall, but its limbs are powerful enough to support my weight, while its thick viridian leaves and pale grey bark provide the perfect camouflage against my Kokirian garb. Moreover, it is in perfect sight of the Marosk.

I gaze out across the clearing just in time to see Kyun disappear into the foliage of another tree, this one much higher than the one that conceals me. The faint glow of Jix's fairy light reveals his position within a thick shrub a few trees away. Finally, I turn my attention to the Marosk, making sure the creature has not moved as we have. The hairs of the beast's brilliant mane dance in the light breeze of the forest as it continues its grazing. It is facing me now… and should it raise its head I would surely find myself staring straight into its beady, solid eyes.

Good… this means all four of us are in the perfect positions.

This is the first time Kyun has ever deferred to me for a strategy during a hunt. Every time we leave the forest it is always the same – my eyes and ears, his nose and arm. With this, we have felled much game in the past. Yet as I look upon the powerful form of the unwary Marosk, I know that our usual tactics would never succeed against such large prey. I only hope that the plan I devised will be enough to fell the creature, and if not at least allow it – and us – to leave the clearing unharmed.

I reach down to my belt and silently unsheathe my knife, feeling the soft leather grip as my fingers close around the hilt. I carefully rest the fingers of my other hand upon the blade's cold surface, steadying it as I move its metal body before a gap in the leaves. The blade's reflective surface catches the light of Sàlinótenrie as it streams freely into my sanctuary, casting it back into the surrounding area. Had the Marosk seen the reflected light, the creature might have grown weary of the strange phenomenon. However, both the beast's attention, and whatever food it has found buried beneath the earth continue to be consumed by one another.

My companions however are not so distracted. For they witness my signal… and act.

An answering flicker from across the clearing catches my eye, this one gleaming from the deadly tip of Kyun's arrow. This however, was not intended as a signal… but a harbinger. The light disappears a moment later as the Kokiri lets his arrow fly. The slender shaft glides swift and true through the air, toward the area where the Marosk continues its grazing. The projectile is not aimed for the creature's body however – it flies swiftly passed the creature's flank, embedding itself with a dull thunk into the earth near the beast's lowered head.

The Marosk abruptly raises its elongated snout, all thoughts of food chased from its skull by the sound. Bits of soil and other earth matter fall from its bovine lips as it turns its eyes this way and that, searching for that which disturbed its grazing. Another arrow impales itself into the ground on the other side of the beast. Now sensing the danger posed, it moves nervously from side to side, unsure which way to go in order to escape the impending threat. A third arrow finishes what the first two began. A deep panicked cry escapes the Marosks lips as the final projectile is driven into the loamy soil behind its large form. The creature breaks from the now harmless arrows, tearing up clumps of dirt and grass as its mighty hooves pound against the forest floor.

Kyun's precise firing had done exactly what I'd hoped it would, for the Marosk is now fleeing straight toward the area where Jix and I wait to fulfill our roles in this hunt. The frenzied creature does not seem to take notice of the faint orange glow from the nearby bushes as it continues its desperate charge towards the salvation of the forest beyond the sunlit clearing. Indeed, it is completely unaware that this very same salvation is where the real danger lies. It does not remain ignorant for long however, as a small luminescent body breaks from its hiding place. Realizing its mistake, the startled beast digs its hooves into the earth, trying desperately to stop its charge, and perhaps change direction. However, this spark of enlightenment comes too late for the doomed creature as words of power echo from Jix's fey lips.

"Yisiliak Aòvel!" He issues the earnest cry.

It is a language I am unfamiliar with – not Kokirian, nor Hyrulean in its utterance but with clear purpose. Though I do not know the words, their intention becomes perfectly clear a moment later. My Hylian ears are met with a sound like that of rustling leaves, as Jix's magic begins to take form. A number of roots burst from the earth below the Marosk's hooves, emerging like worms after a fresh rain. A loud, panicked cry echoes from the creatures bovid mouth as the roots snare its four legs, binding it in place and coiling their way up its powerful body. Each second that goes by sees more of the Marosk's movement restricted by the growing sylvan prison. Even as the roots reach its body however, the beast continues its fruitless struggle, its horned head thrashing back and forth as it attempts to gore its way through the ligneous serpents.

My fingers tightly grip the knife in my hand as I remain perched in the tree, just above where the Marosk struggles. I feel my knuckles begin to grow numb from the pressure so I force myself to loosen them slightly as I watch the magical roots coil around the struggling creature. The urge to leap out and end this struggle swiftly begins to gnaw at my heart, but I push the feelings away. Most of the beast's body is bound by now, but its head is still free, and I've no desire to paint the beast's horns with my own blood. I wait as the roots slowly coil their way through the long, regal fibers of the Marosk's mane, sweat forming upon my brow as the final act draws near.

"Link! Ertòn! Im nàleren fèlt Illinken!" The fairy cries as the roots finally bind the beast's head in place.

The fey's voice is strained as he attempts to maintain control of the powerful magic, but his words are spoken in Kokirian this time, and I need no further instruction. My grip tightens once more around the leather hilt of my knife. I gaze down at the Marosk, focusing my vision on the flesh beneath its thick mane. Be precise… one single stroke. Do not allow your prey to suffer, for to do so is to dishonor its life as well as your own.

I leap.

The leaves of the tree part as I burst through them, knife poised in a reverse grip within my left hand. My vision remains focused on the tender flesh of the Marosk's neck as I swiftly descend to the forest floor. I raise my arm, placing the palm of my right hand upon the blade's pommel as the ensnared creature grows closer and closer. My feet hover just above the ground, one last fleeting moment of flight before my descent comes to an end.

As one, my arms, and the weapon they hold fall.

The soles of my boots meet solid earth, and I bend my legs instinctively to cushion the impact. A loud, wet crunch resounds and I feel a resistant pressure push back on my arm as my blade sinks into the soft flesh beneath the Marosk's mane. A warm, wet feeling washes over my left hand, and in the same instant I hear the creature utter one final, lowing farewell before breath and life leave it's being as one. It's struggling ceases… and nothing but silence echoes within this small forest clearing.

We'd done it.

I stare at my hands, not bothering to move or even retrieve my blade as the strange, scarlet liquid flows around it. I am unsure how I should be feeling… or even what I currently do feel. In the brief moment as my blade sank into the creature's flesh, severing the anchors that bound its spirit to its body, I felt something. For a moment, I struggle to consider just what this feeling was before the truth finally dawns upon me.

I've been on any number of hunts, each time doing my part to ensure that we bring back enough food that the tribe may eat well. Yet during each of these, I was always the eyes and ears… never before have I been the arm… the hand that decides rather a hunt succeeds or fails. The knife I hold has before now, never tasted the blood of another creature.

This is my first kill.

I only barely notice the sound of the roots slowly retracting themselves, releasing their hold on the lifeless creature before me. They uncoil from its body, traveling the same path they had taken, before disappearing into the earth once more. Without their support, the Marosk's limp form crumples beneath its own weight. My knife frees itself from the creature's flesh as it falls, landing upon its flank within the lush grass. Crimson fluid drips from the downturned blade, staining a few viridian blades red.

"How… does it feel?" I hear the voice of Kyun from my side. I hadn't heard him approach, but I feel too numb to be surprised by the sudden break in silence.

"Thought… would feel different." I explain solemnly. "Proud… honored… not this."

"Regret? Sad?" The Kokiri asks. I nod, unable to form a vocal response. "Good… should feel these things."

I turn a questioning eye to my friend unsure of what to make of his statement.

"Kokiri worship and honor life… yet Jiràsved take life so Kokiri will live." Kyun says, closing his eyes gently. "These feelings… also gifts from Syldré, and from Róhtànketzel."

"We are hunters, yet we are allowed to show remorse for those whose lives we take." Jix continues, calmer and more focused now that he is no longer restraining the Marosk. "It is what sets us apart from all other creatures of the forest… and from the evil beings that exist here as well. Many – Kokiri and Fairy alike – seem to forget that."

"These feelings… Kyun and Jix too?" I ask, though I suspect I already know the answer.

Kyun nods without hesitation. "Always remember. Never forget."

"This is another reason why we pray and stand vigil over the bodies of those we hunt." Jix explains. "It offers some small comfort to our hearts to know that we have seen the creature's spirit to safety."

"Now… is time again." Kyun says, and for a moment I catch the faintest hint of a smile upon the Kokiri's lips. "Lànkelmaër… must now perform. Is Link's right… as Kokiri."

I return my friend's expression with one of my own before nodding understandingly, wiping the thick crimson blood from my blade, and returning it to its place upon my belt. I lower myself, kneeling before the lifeless body of the fallen Marosk. As Kyun has done many times before, I close my eyes, allowing the emotions I now feel to take root in my heart. A melancholy calm falls over me as I slowly raise my left hand, passing it once and back again over the body of the deceased creature before joining my hands before my chest as my friend had done earlier. The words begin to drift from my lips.

"Lin valier Róhtànketzel. Tahl fel lànkel nàlbàlrahn cès fel làyamar amàn fadilon idrà teldilon."

* * *

_ShiningwingX: There were two things I really wanted to accomplish in this chapter. The first, was to go into what the Jiràsved's role is in Kokirian society. They're hunters, but what else? The second was that I wanted to go into the dangers that face the forest and those who live there, as well as those who come from Outside… without actually DOING anything with that yet._

_I think I did alright in accomplishing these two goals. My only worry is rather or not I made this chapter too much of a lore bomb. There were a lot of new concepts introduced, and many of these would be better served explaining in more detail later. However… I also didn't want to leave them unmentioned. Particularly with regard to the Lenshæda. It didn't do anything in this chapter, and that's what I meant for it. It will be important for later chapters, but failing to acknowledge it here, and make its existence and dangers known would hurt that. However… it also feels that in doing so I went off on an unrelated tangent and I wonder how well I handled it._

_1. There's many different types of forests, both in our world and on Ismirra. The kind portrayed here is meant to be a rainforest. Thick greenery, hundred foot trees, and things of that nature. I don't know how well I portrayed this, but hopefully this will help visualization._

_2. I mention how Outsiders are quick to fall prey to the Lenshæda, so why isn't Link affected? This, I plan to explain in Chapter IV. It's not as complex or mystical as you might think. :)_

_3. I sort of like the Lankelmaër. I hoped to further the notion that the Kokiri have a deep respect for all living things, and I feel this does so nicely. I wonder if its 'believable' though._

_4. The Marosk… I mentioned it oh so briefly in the last chapter. This is among the first of many unique creatures I plan to add to the world. I rather like this thing._

_Not much else to say here. As always I hope everyone enjoyed this most recent chapter. Hopefully Chapter IV won't be such a roller-coaster of changing ideas as Chapter III. If it is well, I at least hope it won't be as much of one._

_As always, please leave a review if you have time. I read all of those, and am always happy to find a new one :)._


End file.
